


Untitled Bill Scully Jr.

by somekindofseizure



Series: WTID Supplemental Reading [25]
Category: The Fall (TV 2013), The X-Files
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 21:17:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somekindofseizure/pseuds/somekindofseizure
Summary: Anonymous asked: I wonder what Stella and big brother Bill would think of each other if they met. Pretty sure they would each other the wrong way to put it mildly.





	Untitled Bill Scully Jr.

Stella hears the word ‘worried’ over the sound of rushing water and clanging dishware as she comes down the unfamiliar steps of this old home. It is his voice, the brother’s, and the sound of it makes the hair on her spine stand at attention. She slows in the hall that leads to the kitchen, hoping he’ll go before she arrives.

“Worried about what?” Scully asks in a tenor of disinterest so deep it sounds like sarcasm. Bill Scully doesn’t seem to notice.

“About you.”

Stella steps behind the wall of the entryway to the kitchen, hiding beside a table full of framed photos that have been carefully dusted for the occasion. She likes Maggie, feels sorry for what is about to happen in her house.

“First you give away the baby,” and here Stella grips the molding of the jamb to keep herself from interfering, “You manage to get rid of Mulder, now you’re bringing home new strays for Easter.“

“She’s not a stray, she’s my friend.” 

Stella looks down, runs her tongue over the front of her teeth, sharpening them in case she gets the chance to tear into him. She’s been foaming at the mouth since dinner. He managed to insult his sister amidst slices of slick ham and a chat about the weather. She can hardly believe they’re related.

“I’m not sure that’s the kind of person you need right now,” he continues and then sweetens his tone into an invitation. “Why don’t you come to the church group with us this week?”

“Stop, Bill.”

A thunk in the drainage holster and Stella knows Scully is losing her patience, washing utensils in groups rather than individually, trying to get the fuck out of there at the expense of gritty silver. She considers going in to protect the spoons but the topic of conversation makes this seem unwise.

“She swears in front of mom -”

“Mom laughs when she does that, they’ve met.”

“Another one clearly married to her work, has no family to speak of, apparently.”

“You don’t know anything about her.”

“I know you.”

“Do you?” The water turns off. A casserole lid slides off a stack of pots into the basin. Stella holds her breath to avoid being caught eavesdropping. “Then do you know I’m about to tell you to go fuck yourself?”

Bill makes a reptilian sound, shocked to find itself above water, fearing incompatibility with oxygen. When he catches a breath, he spits venom.

“She was looking at me like she was going to get on her knees under the Easter table and crawl between my legs in front of my wife and mother, Dana.”

Stella sucks her cheeks in anger but not surprise. A pang of guilt mitigates her fury. She was supposed to have been here for moral support.

“Maybe she wanted to see if you still had a pair of balls.”

Stella chews her bottom lip to keep from laughing but no one in the kitchen is even the slightest bit amused.

“Great, I can see she’s a good influence.”

“I don’t need influences, Bill. I’m an adult if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Fine. Night, Dana. I’ll lock my bedroom door and put my chastity belt on just in case.”

Stella considers dodging into the next room so he won’t see her upon his exit but there’s a damp sound, maybe a sponge hitting him and then the floor.

“Finish the dishes, Bill. And get a life. Stay out of mine.”

Scully barely looks at Stella as she storms past, as though she’d been expecting to see her standing audience to her performance. Stella follows, noting the sound of the faucet reopening. Bill may be the soldier of the house but little sister has pulled rank.

“That was unnecessary,” Stella says as she follows Scully up the stairs.

“Yes, it was, we should’ve stayed at my place.”

“I meant you didn’t have to get into a fight with him over me.”

“Pack your bag. We’re leaving.”

“Scully, your mother.”

“Will understand.”

She’s already started throwing things into her duffel bag. She pauses to acknowledge the fact that Stella hasn’t.

“You want me to tell you off too?”

Stella shakes her head no and grabs her laptop, swings her coat over her shoulders; she’s taken hardly anything out of her valise. Been years since she traveled home for holidays, but the technique has stayed with her. Keep your things packed and your four letter words handy, keys to the car in plain sight, wine to a minimum lest you need to drive it unexpectedly. Wars tend to be waged at night. Kitchens and chess boards leave one vulnerable to sneak attacks. She has a feeling this is not familiar territory for Scully, has a feeling Bill Scully’s been allowed to rampage unchecked until tonight.

“Thank you,” she says quietly as she hands Scully the keys. Scully surprises her by throwing her free arm around Stella’s neck, body ballasted by the bag over the other shoulder. Stella hugs her back, squeezing her through the chunky sweatshirt she put on to clean in. Her hands still smell of dish liquid. The car key gives off a welcome scent of gunmetal on her shoulder. Stella squeezes tighter to avoid squirming. She is not used to having her borders manned.

“Let’s go,” Scully says and leads her out.


End file.
